


First

by GoddessofBirth



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-29
Updated: 2012-04-29
Packaged: 2017-11-04 12:30:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/393858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoddessofBirth/pseuds/GoddessofBirth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean can exactly remember the very first time that he went to his knees for Cas that didn't involve fear or desperation</p>
            </blockquote>





	First

 

Dean can exactly remember the very first time that he went to his knees for Cas that didn't involve fear or desperation. It was full light outside the dingy motel room, and the blinds wouldn't close completely, so stripes of sun were painted across the entire place.

 

Castiel was backed up against the wall, trenchcoat and tie lost somewhere on the floor, shirt hanging unbuttoned and untucked. His feet were bare, toes long and elegant and just so...so... _Cas_. His hair was a complete mess from Dean's hands and his head was flung back, eyes closed, as if he couldn't quite keep them open and still process what was happening.

 

He was chanting  _Deandeandeandeandeandean_ in a voice Dean had only ever heard him use to call on God, and he wanted to keep hearing it and hearing it, burn it to a CD and listen to it in the Impala on endless road trips, put it on an iPod and play it while he slept, or fuck, better yet, just find a way to keep making Cas do it. And he pulled his teeth from Cas's neck, left behind a dark, dark mark that unrepentently said  _This angel belongs to_ ME _,_ and dropped to his knees so that his face was perfectly even with the bulge in Cas's pants.

 

His belt was already undone, and the sound it made as Dean pulled it from its loops was a dirty promise, full of all the things he was going to do to Cas; all the things Castiel was going to do to  _him_ . When he pulled his zipper down and slipped a hand inside Cas's pants, cupping warmth and hardness and  _fuck yes, Cas_ , the angel's head slammed back against the wall with a sharp thud, and he wailed out a long  _Deeeaaaannnn,_ ragged and desperate and edged with a reverent kind of whisper, his hands instinctively coming to grip Dean's hair.

 

It took no time at all to free Castiel's dick from his boxer briefs – no more whitey-tighteys, Sam had obviously taken him shopping – and Dean couldn't ever remember  _wanting_ quite this much, wanting to give and give and take and take until Cas was a scrabbling mess of pleading, panting, whining need that would never, ever, ever think of being anywhere but beside Dean, because Dean couldn't picture being anywhere else but next to him.

 

'Come on, Cas,' he rasped out, gripping the other man's sides and taking a brief second to bury his face in the jut of his hip, 'Come 'ere. I've got you.' Cas's hands reflexively tugged on Dean's locks, and that was enough to have Dean pulling back just enough to run his tongue from balls to tip and then around the head, tasting salt and Cas and  _swear to god_ something unearthly. Cas made a completely unintelligible sounding sob and bucked hard into him.

 

'Shh...shhh...it's okay,' he said, running soothing circles on his hip bones with his thumbs.

 

'Dean...Dean...the way they made it look...this is nothing... _nothing_ like that...they made it look so wrong...and this is....this is...this is  _not_ .'

 

Dean was momentarily confused, until he realized Cas was talking about  _porn_ . About the movies he'd tried showing Castiel so long ago he'd nearly forgotten. He gave a strangled laugh. 'No, Cas, this is nothing like that.' Because if it  _were_ there would be four hot, double D nurses bursting through the door right about  _now_ to keep this from getting any more boy/boy than it was. 

 

Of course, there were no nurses, and he'd given up months ago trying to convince himself that what he felt for Castiel was the same brotherly love he had for Sammy. He didn't even want it to be anymore. He just wanted...he just wanted  _this_ .

 

'This is nothing like that,' he said again, and then he licked his lips and looked up at Cas, who was watching him with a kind of heavy lidded lust, mouth open and panting, and not breaking his gaze, opened his mouth and took him in as far as he could.

 

Every light bulb in the room blazed up and then exploded in a shower of glass.

 

Neither one of them noticed.

 

Dean didn't have a whole lot of experience in this, but he had thought about it some – well, okay,  _a lot_ – and what he did have a lot of experience in was  _Cas_ . Knew his twitches and quirks, knew that barely there quirk of a lip that was like a full blown laugh, the tenseness in his shoulders that meant he was about to explode one way or the other. So as he worked, hands and mouth growing slick and shiny with spit and sweat and pre-cum, he kept his eyes on Cas, on the flutter of his lashes and the grip of his fingers, on the bunching of his muscles as he lost control and began thrusting in and out between Dean's lips, streams of Enochian coming out broken and gasping in that raspy voice of his that sent shivers down Dean's spine and right to his cock.

 

Finally, when the tendons on Cas's neck were stretched and stark and his teeth clenched like he was doing all he could not to unleash the powers of heaven on the whole Earth, he slid his hands beneath the back of Castiel's pants that were, by this time, riding so low on one ridiculously attractive hip that they may as well not be on at all, and cupping his ass in both hands, slipped two fingers between his legs and just barely pressed against him.

 

' _Dean_ ,' Cas seized out, in that  _worshipful/dirty/lust-filled/so-help-him-god-Deanwasgonnacomewithoutbeingtouchedatall_ voice, and his whole body froze for exactly one second before he pulled Dean's hair so hard that his scalp was sore for days, and came, gasping and arching and shattering every lightbulb in the next three rooms. 

 

They didn't notice.

 

Sam did, and in the room over buried his head deeper underneath his pillow and tried very hard to pretend he wasn't hearing what he knew he was.

 

Not having actually thought the whole end part through, Dean worked his jaw hard to swallow as quickly as he could, choking a little as some escaped out the corner of his mouth, and he sat back on his heels gasping for breath.

 

He started to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand when fingers encircled his wrist and pulled it away.

 

'Wait.'

 

He blinked and realized Castiel was crouched in front of him, pupils blown and black and lips red from where he had bitten them between his own teeth. He looked at Dean intently, both of their breathing still labored, and then his eyes zeroed in on the white at the corner of Dean's lips.

 

Very, very carefully he leaned in, cupped Dean's face in his hands, and licked it off.

 

'Holy  _fuck_ ,' Dean whispered, and then tackled Cas down to the floor.

 

So, that was the very first time Dean willingly went to his knees for Cas.

 

But it definitely wasn't the last.


End file.
